


A Lover's Token

by Vadianna



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Come Eating, M/M, Olfactophilia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Salirophilia, blowjob, handjob, kylo ren is dirty and smells bad, look at the new words I learned today, mysophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 04:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8235391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vadianna/pseuds/Vadianna
Summary: For a prompt at @kyluxhardkinks:   Kylo gets off on physical evidence of his trysts with Hux. So he gets Hux to regularly rub him off through his leggings. He doesn't wash them. More or less.





	

One of the only lessons Kylo Ren brought with him from his previous life was about how important clothing was when presenting yourself to others. It had been drilled into him relentlessly as a child.  He hadn't truly appreciated the wisdom of it until he had embarked on his current career.

As he swept onto the bridge of the _Finalizer_ , the officers and technicians stopped their work to stare at him. They were intimidated. Terrified. Part of it was the reputation he had made for himself in the First Order.  But it was also the way he presented himself.  It was his clothes and the power they projected. He felt it to the very center of himself as the eyes moved over him. They didn't really see his reputation.  They saw his sweeping black tunic. His frayed grey cowl. His dented, scratched helmet.

He sent the Force out to brush against the minds of those closest to him. Through their eyes, he saw himself, and his clothes. Every stitch, every fiber, every imperfection a map of who he was and what he could do.

The gunnery sergeant saw the threadbare scuff on the rear of his tunic. Kylo thought of how the Quarren pirates had surprised him, thrown him back and almost over the sheer face of a cliff last month.

The petty officer’s eyes came up from the datapad and locked on the blackly singed edge of his cowl. His shuttle had nearly been shot out of the air, they’d made a crash landing. That was almost a year ago.

The conversation between two comm techs trailed off to nothing. One saw the claw marks from a garral raked into the side of his helmet. The other saw the black gore caked to the heel of his boot - the mortal remains of the head of the Intergalactic Banking Clan after he’d refused to negotiate a standard week ago.

Sometimes they’d heard the stories and knew how such badges had been won. But the truth of them wasn’t important to Kylo Ren. He much preferred the stories they generated in people’s minds. Sometimes those inventions were so much worse than what had actually happened. Sometimes not.

Either way, it was what he wanted them to see of himself. It was _all_ he wanted them to see. There was no need for them to glimpse the human underneath.  The clothes were his image. They were the essence of Kylo Ren.

He hadn’t announced his presence on the bridge as he normally did, which was loudly and immediately. He was hoping to approach his quarry with the advantage of surprise, though he wondered if the silence he left in his wake would be enough to tip him off, or if he would be expecting this. Which was likely.

He stopped and stood silently for a moment, admiring General Hux from the rear. He was silhouetted against the massive sweep of the transparisteel front of the _Finalizer_. Hux didn’t believe in wearing one’s accomplishments as Kylo did - Hux did, in fact, have a number of physical accolades and badges he refused to wear. He chose to represent himself with a simple display of rank on the cuff of his sleeve, which was not currently visible to Kylo. That and the First Order insignia were the only things that marred the black of his uniform. Even his wide belt and large buttons were black.

His uniform was like the one everyone else on the ship wore. And yet. Hux was taller. He held himself straighter. Somehow, his uniform lines were cleaner, more impeccable than everyone else’s. The black of his command cap made his orange hair stand out in striking contrast, drawing the eye to him like a solitary flame in the darkness.

Kylo watched as he turned to the captain seated next to him, the side of one pale cheek revealed. His hands, encased in his ubiquitous, flawless leather gloves, were clasped behind his back, over his greatcoat, which hid the slender build of his body while enhancing his height even more, making him that much more of a monolith on the bridge of the ship.

He exuded power, even in clothing that made him look like everyone else. It was an entirely different type of power than what Kylo Ren displayed. It was the power of command, the ability to distinguish himself as _better_ in a sea of sameness, rather than the power of violence that was Kylo Ren’s trademark. Kylo admired him for it still, even after all this time.

“General. A word before I leave.”

He had the satisfaction of seeing the slight stiffening of Hux’s shoulders. Ah. It had been a surprise, then. Kylo’s eyebrows went up behind his mask. How foolish of Hux not to foresee this confrontation.

Hux turned around to face him, posture straight, hands behind his back, face calm. Kylo’s eye picked up the small signs, invisible to most, of his displeasure. The slightest hint of the line between his light brows. The twitch at the corner of his mouth. The cold light in his eye.

Hux was furious. Kylo bit down on his lip, suppressing a surge of excitement, relishing the fact that Hux couldn’t see the glee playing across his own face.

“I am needed on the bridge. Ask me here if you need something. I’ll arrange it.”

Kylo bit down on his lip even harder. This was Hux practically daring him to say something. Bold. He wondered if he should allude to what he wanted, or even speak it outright among the hundred or so staff members that were watching them. Hux would be even more furious. But it would likely be too much, and it wouldn't give him what he wanted.

“This is a confidential matter. We will need to retire to your office.”

He could see the muscles tense as Hux clenched his jaw, but he gave no other tell to his temper. The very picture of collected control. “I don’t have the time today. Is this about your mission? You were thoroughly briefed this entire week. Certainly any questions you had could have been asked before your launch window?”

Kylo smiled a secret smile behind his helmet. “It does concern my mission. A last-minute issue. I tried to schedule a meeting with you this morning. Several times. You kept rejecting it. I will have to pull you away from your duties for a brief meeting now, since there wasn’t a convenient time for you earlier.”

Hux’s usual reason to avoid Kylo right before a mission was that he didn’t have time on his schedule. Today, Kylo had tried to get around the weak excuse by scheduling a meeting. As he thought, Hux had declined his invitation.

Airing this in front of others was a low blow. He could see the General’s face reddening slightly, the way the other officers were staring. Hux made a show of schedules and promptness, and insisted that he was always open for a word, if it was important. This was a well-known fact. Kylo announcing Hux’s rejection in front of the other officers revealed either a petty slight or a lie from Hux, neither of which were especially flattering.

And he knew Hux was indeed lying about his busy schedule. Kylo wanted to see if he’d try the lie again in front of everyone. There would certainly be those in this room that knew the General didn’t have anything urgent to attend to this morning. He wondered how quickly Hux would submit.  He did not wonder long.

“A glitch, I’m sure. If it’s important, I can make time now.” There was a note of strain in his voice that Kylo wondered if anyone else would pick up on. Unlikely. Hux turned crisply to Mitaka. “Lieutenant. I’ll be in a meeting for ten minutes.”

“Better make it twenty,” Kylo offered lazily, letting his voice synthesizer tint his words with an insolent lack of concern.

He could see the muscle in Hux’s jaw flex again. “Hold my comms until then.”

“Yes sir.”

And with that, Hux turned and walked as fast as he could manage without looking ostentatious. He clipped Kylo’s shoulder on the way past, and Kylo hummed low in his throat, too low for the voice synthesizer to pick up.

Left alone after Hux’s quick exit, he took one more look around the bridge, through the mask, without turning his head. He took in all the officers staring silently at him, and pushed at their minds once more.

He felt the mechanic that wondered about the shiny black stain at his neck.

He felt the captain that had seen the attack that rent the tear in his shirt at the forearm.

He felt the engineer that gaped at the flap of his tunic missing from the front, and imagined it being consumed by a ruping in its death throes as Kylo hacked it to pieces.

Kylo smiled again before he turned and exited to follow Hux.

He let the General wait two minutes before he entered the office, then slammed the door behind himself, not letting Hux have the pleasure.

Unruffled, Hux didn’t miss a beat before he started to complain, sitting slumped back in the chair behind his desk with anger written clear on his face. It was a rare lapse in control, and something he gave only to Kylo.

“Really? Do we have to do this every single time?”

“Yes.” Kylo was in front of the desk in three steps, crossing his arms in a show of intimidation that he knew would be ignored.

“I told you last night that we weren’t going to do this. That what happened then should be good enough. We _negotiated_.”

Kylo smirked behind his helmet as he allowed himself to replay the previous evening. He had nearly begged to come inside Hux, then eat the come out of his ass. The taste of Hux and himself mingled together still lingered on his tongue. The tightness of Hux, who rarely allowed Kylo inside of him, sent a throb low through his abdomen and began the first stirrings of an erection. The memory of the smooth skin of Hux’s warm thighs on his palms made him clench his fists. Hux had enjoyed it as much as Kylo had, but had flatly refused to admit it afterward.

For that privilege, Kylo would have told Hux absolutely anything he wanted to hear, no matter how preposterous. He would have told Hux he was the product of a union between a barabel and a kowakkian monkey-lizard. Making a promise he had no intention to keep had been an easy thing.

“I wasn’t paying attention when you said that.”

“I made it a condition. You said yes.”

“Well. Here we are.”

Hux crossed his arms in a mirror of Kylo’s intimidation tactic. It had just as much effect on Kylo as it had on Hux. “I am absolutely not doing this. You know I can’t stand touching you in those clothes.”

Kylo walked around the large desk. Hux was still slumped in his chair, perfectly coiffed, black uniform in impeccable condition, greatcoat spread around him like half-folded wings. Kylo could see his cold blue eyes flick down, to the fringe of his tunic, frayed and gray and swaying just above the floor, to his boots, spattered in shades of black and gray and brown.  He scuffed them against the floor, leaving a mark on the reflective surface.  When Hux's eyes angrily went to his helmet again, Kylo tried to spur him to action.

“Can we skip this? I know you’ll do it. _You_ know you’ll do it.”

Hux huffed. “I’m not doing it this time. I’m going to break you of this filthy habit of yours.”

Kylo shook his head. “I won’t go unless you do.”

Hux frowned deeper. “This is childish. If you insist on doing this, you will not be invited back into my bed.”

This was an empty threat. He could still feel Hux’s hands all over his neck, his chest, his biceps. The muscles in his stomach drew up at the memory of his touch. He leaned forward to make an empty threat of his own, placing one hand on the arm of Hux's chair.

“I can insist on whatever I like. I’ll get what I want with a wave of my hand, and you know it.” He twitched the fingers hanging at his side and used the ghost of a Force touch across Hux’s cheekbone.

At this, Hux attempted impassivity, but he was betrayed when his pupils dilated. Kylo didn’t often use the Force for sex (he usually didn’t have the concentration to spare), but the threat of it always worked to get inside Hux’s pants. So to speak. In this case, to get Hux inside his.

He stood straight once again and waited for his words to sink in. One second. Two.

“Get on the desk,” Hux gritted out thinly, through clenched teeth, a flush creeping over his face to betray his arousal. He stood to discard his hat and greatcoat, actions stiff and angry. Rather than look at Kylo, who he had just given in to, he feigned absorption in his hand, pulling back his sleeve and tugging idly on the bottom of his glove, letting Kylo see a pale flash of his wrist.

It was pageantry, meant to rile Kylo. It was working. He felt his dick grow harder inside his pants. He made no move to follow Hux’s orders, standing straight between Hux’s chair and desk, hands dangling at his sides.

When Kylo remained still, Hux let the anger flow out of his posture, made a show of being relaxed, unconcerned. His face smoothed back into the mask of indifference he wore in front of others. His cold gaze moved between his glove and Kylo’s helmet, and lingered on the latter, pretending consideration.

“Take off your helmet. You’re giving me a blowjob afterward.”

Acknowledgment, acquiescence. Kylo’s blood ran hotter with the thought of the inevitable, of getting what he wanted, and he reached up to undo the latches of his helmet. He kept his eyes closed as he pulled it away from his face, then shook his hair out and opened them, showing Hux a smirk. He knew Hux didn’t like him wearing the helmet when they were together. Sometimes he did anyway, just to annoy him. He set the helmet on the desk, then unwrapped his thin, frayed cowl. Tiny, thorny seedpods from his last trip to Rattatak were embedded in the fiber, and a few caught on his gloves as he threw it on the floor, which was something else he knew would annoy Hux. He brushed the seedpods from his gloves in the general direction of his cowl, then looked back to Hux.

When Hux only arched his brows, Kylo pressed himself against Hux, and Hux stumbled back into his chair, sitting down hard as Kylo took him off balance. Kylo followed him into the chair, straddling him and dropping heavily into his lap. Deciding he really couldn’t help himself, Kylo pulled his gloves off and discarded them behind Hux. He clasped his bare hands behind Hux’s neck, feeling the tiny hairs stand up as he pulled himself flush to Hux’s chest. He saw Hux pull back in an unconscious reaction to being so close to Kylo in his clothes, saw his nostrils flare, felt Hux’s hands land on his hips, a firm pressure pushing him away, but not quite.

Hux sneered into his face. “You’re disgusting.”

“You’ve told me many times.”

“It hasn’t registered yet. What do I have to do to get you to burn your clothes and get new ones?”

Kylo leaned forward, nipping at Hux’s ear, bringing Hux’s face into his neck and shoulder. “Stop being turned on by it.”

The high collar of Kylo’s shirt, climbing his neck to just below his jaw, was stiff and dark with sweat, white rime flecking the black fabric. He hadn’t washed it since he’d first worn it, which was almost half a galactic year ago. He’d needed to replace his old one, which had been burned too much to wear again. That mission had left him with ropes of scar tissue snaking up his right side, and a fresh shirt that hadn’t been fresh in months. It smelled rank, of sweat and blood and Kylo’s body. Hux shuddered at the contact. Kylo felt it under his hands, against his chest, below his thighs.

“I would never be turned on by your filthy hygiene.” Hux reached up and pulled at one of the open seams in Kylo’s shirt that ran under his arm and down his side. The hole was large enough for Hux to snake his hand into, underneath his tunic, past Kylo’s frayed suspenders. He pressed his glove against the scarred flesh of Kylo’s chest, teasing his nipple with index finger and thumb.

“Of course not. You’ll have to change your uniform after this.” Kylo left one hand on Hux’s neck and ran the other palm, partially covered by his sleeve, down Hux’s arm. Many of the pleats on his sleeves had been pulled straight, and both cuffs had several small burns and holes from his lightsaber. Patterns of copper and black and patches of white stood out against the light gray fabric, which was worn threadbare at his elbows on both arms.

He squeezed Hux’s bicep and rocked into his lap, grinding his erection into the front of his pants and against Hux’s firm stomach. The broken buckle of his belt squeaked quietly when he leaned against it, the repair he’d done after the belt had been wrenched from his body by a renda bear threatening to give way. Hux writhed under the attention.

Kylo exhaled and tightened his grip on Hux's arm.  “You know better than to touch my bare skin right now.” Reluctantly, he guided Hux’s hand, fingertips probing against the muscles of his torso, out of his shirt. Kylo enjoyed the attention, but he wanted something else from Hux today. Hux hissed in frustration.

While Kylo refused to remove the evidence of his lifestyle from his clothing, his body was kept impeccably clean. Left to his own devices, he did shower regularly. But Kylo had found that, if he didn’t shower himself, Hux would do it for him. It was an activity they both enjoyed, though Hux would never admit it. Hux wasn’t very honest with either Kylo or himself, but the truth was that Hux could barely keep his bare hands off Kylo’s skin when they were alone together. It was a weakness Kylo thoroughly enjoyed and exploited whenever he could. He regretted that he couldn’t do so now almost as much as Hux did.

But his clothes were sacred. Every stain, every tear, every smear and fiber out of place was something he’d done, something he experienced, something of Kylo Ren that he could wear and have with him at all times. He couldn’t bear to wash the evidence of his lifestyle away. It was a comfort. It was confirmation. It was power.  And he needed something added to it right now.

Hux protested Kylo’s rejection, pulling back and frowning as he rested his hand on Kylo’s chest in annoyance. “I’m wearing gloves, my skin is nowhere near yours.”

Kylo sighed, regretting that they had to go through this every single time. Still, Hux wasn’t without a point. “I wish you’d take them off.”

Hux shuddered again. “I would never touch your foul clothes with my bare hands.”

Kylo cupped his hand to the back of Hux’s head (carefully - he didn't want to ruin Hux’s perfect hair) and guided Hux’s face down to his chest. Hux rubbed his nose against Kylo’s clavicle, covered in his thick black tunic and the thin layer of his shirt. Sap from the tree he’d hidden against on Mimban had dried into hard, clear patches. Down lower, near his abdomen, the hard pulp of a rinzefruit that had run out between his fingers and down his chest had dried. Near his shoulder, small flecks of viscera from the insurgent who had refused to answer his questions and had been executed as an example to his co-conspirators on Lannik. The cloth was stained darker around his neck and under his arms. His flesh was visible through a tear on his left side that went through both his tunic and the shirt underneath, where a yam’rii had gotten a lucky blaster shot in.

Hux’s hand went under Kylo’s long tunic to the crotch of his pants and felt gingerly, hesitantly. He stroked with his glove, left his face cradled in Kylo’s chest. Kylo’s pants, though baggy, were formed to the shape of his legs. He could only wear pants for several standard weeks before they wore out at the crotch and knees. So they held less memory for him than the rest of his clothing. It felt wrong to wear a clean, anonymous pair of pants into his missions, with nothing of himself to make them his. Everything that touched him had to be a part of him.

While wrestling with this feeling before a mission, he had come up with a solution when he’d cornered Hux and asked for a handjob. He’d come into his pants and taken that with him. Something that belonged to both himself and Hux. He enjoyed the thought so much that he’d taken to doing it before every mission, to Hux’s increasing protests. He refused to leave without performing the ritual.

He did it plenty of times himself while he was away, too. That also belonged to both himself and Hux, but he preferred having Hux do it, for good luck.

These pants were newer, and he hadn’t been on more than two missions in them, so the front wasn’t as stiff as it would become, dried with his own leavings, a constant reminder of his lust for Hux he could feel whenever he took a step. Hux palmed him through the front with his glove, and the abrasive fabric rubbed against his stiffening erection. This could be painful, and it sometimes was, but Hux was normally gentle. Kylo was surprised to see him gentle today - he had thought he had angered Hux this time.

Hux muttered against his chest. “I can’t stand the fucking smell. I can’t believe I let you sit in my lap like this.”

Kylo had long stopped being able to smell his clothes. That part didn’t matter. But Hux’s scent did. He put his nose to Hux’s neck and inhaled the scent of the man - order incarnate. His pomade smelled like citrus, his skin like kibo. Kylo loved the way Hux smelled, and any scent on Hux’s skin spurred his desire further. He sighed quietly into Hux’s neck, smelling the base note of the vormur oil he had rubbed into his skin the night before. Hux had showered this morning, but Kylo could still smell it on him. He had brought it back from Mandalore when he liked the smell. All of Hux’s soaps, shampoos, and grooming products were chosen by Kylo. Hux never commented on the gifts, but Kylo knew he liked them. He used nothing that Kylo hadn’t given him, and frequently used them on Kylo himself.

As Kylo believed that his clothes were part of him, he loved that Hux was the only person who saw him without them. He felt truly naked without them, in a way he hadn't known before he became Kylo Ren, and it felt like a gift he gave to Hux every time he disrobed. Similarly, the General gave him the gift of his own personality, discarding his composure, his restraint, and everything he used to give himself power over others in Kylo’s presence.

Whenever Hux pulled Kylo close to him in sleep, and Kylo felt the warm press of their bare skin together, he wondered at how two such as they could give such gifts to one another. He always ached when he thought on it.

He closed his eyes and inhaled the citrus scent of Hux’s hair more deeply, then opened them, sucking on Hux’s earlobe for a moment before letting his wandering mind return to Hux’s comment.

“What do I smell like today?”

“You smell like the gornt fry we had for breakfast.”

Kylo laughed, and moved his nose down lower to Hux’s collar, which smelled of starch and clean wool. Kylo always wondered if Hux perspired at all. If he did, his body odor smelled like rare oils and clean clothes.

“I’m sure you ate that breakfast. It can’t be that bad.”

“It smells like you cooked the meal for the entire ship yourself.”

Kylo _hmmmmmed_ low against Hux’s neck. That scent was probably leftover from the last time there had been a fire on one of his missions, but he didn’t say it.

“What else?”

“Sweat. Your clothes always smell rank, like I need to bathe you.”

“I thought you liked it.”

“I don’t.”

Kylo licked a line along his jaw, and nipped with a hint of teeth just below Hux’s ear, grinding back against what he could feel of Hux’s erection. They were taking their time today, which Kylo liked. He would rather spend time with Hux than go on a mission. But duty called, and Kylo thought physical encouragement might spur Hux on.

Hux hissed again at the contact, sounding annoyed. He plunged the hand on the front of Kylo’s pants into the open high-waisted front. The zipper had broken a month ago, and he had stains of blue and green spattered across from one of his last missions. His memory failed him for how the stains had gotten under his tunic. The evidence was there anyway, and Kylo loved it.

Hux began teasing the tip of his dick with the thumb of his glove, and Kylo arched into his touch, opening his mouth against Hux’s neck and exhaling a slow breath, feeling the warm moisture of it condense on Hux’s neck. He could smell a trace of caff, and was annoyed with himself for ruining Hux’s scent. He closed his eyes and moved his face to the shoulder of Hux’s uniform, resting his forehead against it.

“I’m not sure if anything will rub off onto your uniform this time.”

“You are always greasy and filthy. My pants will be clear where you’re sitting on them.” He ran his fingers lightly along the underside of Kylo’s erection. “And you know how I feel about you not wearing underwear, you monster.”

Kylo didn’t wear any because he’d have to wash them. “It’s not hygienic.”

He could feel the skin of Hux’s neck prickle again. “You could wash them, and then you wouldn’t be flopping around like a barbarian. Your pants don’t even close right now.”

“Jealous?”

Hux answered by dropping his fingers and fondling Kylo’s balls, squeezing them in his leather grip just this side of painful. Kylo threw back his head and gasped, jerking bodily away from Hux’s touch, only to have Hux pull him back roughly by the hip, burying his face back into Kylo’s chest.

Kylo began rocking in Hux’s lap to a rhythm, the rough, stiff fabric of his pants biting into the skin on the underside and inside of his thighs. He moaned at the chafe and lowered his head back to Hux’s shoulder, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek against the smooth, cool texture of Hux’s uniform, taking in the laundry scent. So soft, so clean. Flawless. Hux was always so perfect.

Hux made a low noise and twisted his gloved fingers around Kylo’s dick. Kylo moaned. This was Hux’s cruelty: he usually did this with his gloves on. The fact that Hux refused to touch him without gloves when Kylo was wearing his clothes made everything worse.  More arousing. That Hux consented to this at all never failed to amaze him.

He fucked himself up into Hux’s hand, and, not able to stomach the dry rub anymore, removed Hux’s hand and licked his gloved fingertips wetly, tasting the treatment he used on the pristine leather, letting the saliva trail from his lips, then guided it back down to his pants.  He saw Hux smirk as he moved his hand back into position.

“Greedy and filthy. Why should I do this for you?”

Kylo moaned, and could feel the precome leak from the head of his dick as Hux tightened his fingers. “You know why. Fuck, Hux, have some consideration."

“ _I_ should have consideration,” he said flatly, pulling his face away from Kylo’s chest, crushing Kylo to him with an arm around his waist and kissing him roughly, his thumb finally spreading the slick body fluid around Kylo’s dick. Kylo knew it was soaking through the leather of his gloves, that Hux could feel the damp heat on his fingertips. He shuddered, plunging his tongue into Hux’s mouth roughly and pulling their faces even closer together with the hand still on the back of Hux’s neck.  His other hand gripped what he could reach of Hux's warm thigh, squeezing it in a punishing grip.

After a moment, Hux pulled away, breathing heavily. “You may be one of the least considerate people in the galaxy.”

“I’m powerful,” Kylo offered, attempting to increase the rhythm, rutting up into Hux’s hand, then back down onto Hux’s erection. Hux usually didn’t want reciprocation when Kylo asked for handjobs. Kylo wondered if he got off on his own restraint after Kylo left. He closed his eyes and shuddered when he remembered that Hux had told him he wanted a blowjob this time. He wondered if Hux would actually allow it. He hadn’t before.

Kylo cracked his eyelids and stared at Hux’s face, still impassive, but flushed bright red with arousal.  He met Hux's eyes, and managed a response, tinged low with arousal. “The galaxy owes me consideration."

Hux dropped his forehead to Kylo’s chest to hide his expression, his fingers tightening for a moment on Kylo’s dick.

Kylo was close, very close. He rubbed his own muddy, scuffed boots against the bright shine of Hux’s, dirtying the outside of his calves. Hux grunted in annoyance, but the contrast between the two made Kylo's dick throb harder.

Unexpectedly, Hux moved his face against Kylo’s shoulder and bit, hard, into Kylo’s tunic. Kylo gasped against the unexpected pain, bucking into Hux’s grip again, frantic. Hux’s grip was not tight enough, his pace slow and steady, partly to infuriate, but partly not to hurt Kylo for their lack of lubrication.

“Hux,” he whispered. He could feel Hux’s saliva, warm and wet, through the layers of his tunic and shirt, and Hux jerked back abruptly, tearing the tunic along the seam. At the same time, he pulled his hand out of Kylo’s pants and sank the fingertips of both hands into Kylo’s biceps, and Kylo came into the hard, filthy fabric of his pants. He could feel the come running off the saturated surface and down his thighs, running back into his pubic hair and coating the hairs of his legs. He shifted in Hux’s lap, and abruptly, Hux all but shoved him off.

“Kneel.”

Kylo caught himself with an arm over the desk, blinking and stupid for a moment before he comprehended what was happening. Hux did want the blowjob. Kylo knelt, mind muddied, still trying to recover from his own orgasm. He looked vacantly into Hux’s lap and noticed gray stains where he had been sitting. He wasn’t sure what it was, what he had been sitting in. It didn’t matter. He liked seeing the filth of his clothes rub off on Hux’s pristine uniform, knowing he would need to change it, to go back to perfection, as soon as Kylo left.

Hux stood and looked down, cruelty plainly visible on his face. Kylo stared into his cool blue eyes, and closed his own and opened his mouth willingly, tongue out to take what Hux gave him.

Hux started by putting two fingers of a gloved hand into Kylo’s mouth. Kylo could taste the leather and the bitter treatment Hux used to clean them, but he could also taste his own fluids, and something gritty and bitter that had likely come from Kylo’s attire. He felt his dick twitch as he wrapped his tongue around the fingers, closing his lips over them and sucking as Hux worked them in and out of his mouth. He wondered if he had soiled these gloves thoroughly enough that Hux would need to throw them away, no longer perfect. Could he get the taint of Kylo off of them?

He could feel the saliva trail down his chin as Hux wiped his fingers down over his lips.  He kept his mouth open, tongue out, and was rewarded with the firm press of Hux's erection. Hux was already so hard. He opened his eyes and looked up into Hux’s impassive face, then closed them again again as he reached up and gripped the base of Hux’s dick.

Hard, Hux was so hard. Kylo knew he enjoyed this, and it was rare for Hux to allow Kylo to reciprocate in his office. He was somewhat surprised Hux had led them here instead of to his rooms. He thought about the meetings Hux might have here later today, and Hux thinking about Kylo kneeling behind his desk, lips wrapped around his dick, while going over dry administrative details.

Kylo moaned as he took in Hux’s length. Hux throbbed against his tongue, and Kylo took the heat of him to the back of his throat, swallowing around it and feeling Hux jump against his tongue. Hux pulled out and back, and began to fuck Kylo’s mouth. Kylo made himself soft and slack, pulled just slightly as Hux went in and out, tasted the salty precome against his tongue, forcing it out of his mouth and letting it run down his chin and onto his chest.

He was hoping for a noise from Hux, he seemed so close, and he opened his eyes to see the flush on Hux’s cheeks, the flush that reached below the pristine, high collar of his uniform. When Kylo met his eyes, Hux pulled his dick out of Kylo’s mouth and came, grunting, into Kylo’s hair.

Kylo was shocked for a moment, letting the precome and saliva drip from his open mouth and down off his chin. He looked up at Hux, angry. Hux had wasted it. Kylo had licked up every drop of Hux’s come he could. Eating it was one of his favorite parts of sex.

“Was that some sort of petty revenge?”

Hux put his hands on Kylo’s shoulders and leaned his weight down, closing his eyes and slumping forward to catch his breath. Kylo saw him mouthing the count of ten, then he stood straighter, wiping his dick on Kylo’s cheek before tucking it back into his pants. He arched his brow, color still high on his cheeks.

“You’re the one that likes to come into your pants before you leave on a mission. I thought I’d give you a little something of mine to keep under your helmet.”

Kylo’s eyes widened, and his gaze drifted as his fingers went up to his hair, trailing through the mess of Hux’s ejaculation in his clean black curls.

He put his fingers in his mouth, thinking for a moment, then stood, kissing Hux.

It was a fierce kiss, and he pushed his tongue, coated in Hux’s come, into Hux’s mouth. Hux moaned and swallowed, kissing back fiercely, pulling Kylo to him. Kylo pulled away, opening his eyes and staring at Hux for a moment, hating that the man could read him so well.  Hux had the slight shine of saliva and precome on his chin from where he had pressed against Kylo's face.  Kylo couldn't help the smile that twitched at the corners of his mouth. His gaze fell Hux’s perfectly coiffed hair, none out of place.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Kylo’s eyes darted back to the hard look on Hux’s face.  Hux did know him, knew he wanted to run his fingers through Hux's hair in one last act of dishevelment, one last sign that he'd given himself to Kylo. Kylo grinned crookedly as he reached behind himself and grabbed his helmet.

Kylo winked as he hid his face from Hux, locking the helmet in place and speaking through his voice synthesizer.

“Watch yourself, General. When you do something sweet like that, I might make you do it every morning from now on.”

Hux’s eyes widened in shock as Kylo bent past him to retrieve his gloves from the floor. He pulled them on, then turned and walked out the office door without looking back. He could feel his stiff pants chafing against his damp thighs, the trickles of his own come drying in the hairs of his calves, tearing at them as his pants stuck to his legs, then pulled away.

He was invincible.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr [@vadianna](http://vadianna.tumblr.com), where I discuss how clean my clothes are at all times. Also Star Wars.


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